


these Hookers bleed Coffee

by JimPanner101



Category: Seinfeld
Genre: Brutal Murder, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Condoms, F/M, Forced Prostitution, Insanity, Murder, Original Fiction, POV First Person, Prostitution, Psycho, Seinfeld References, Serial Killers, Short Story, recluse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:40:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26738983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JimPanner101/pseuds/JimPanner101
Summary: An unhinged satyromaniac briefly summarizes his redemption into the punctual life of being a serial killer dedicated to a Jerry Seinfeld condom.
Relationships: Robert/various prostitutes
Kudos: 1





	these Hookers bleed Coffee

After driving for a solid half hour I spy a girl I'm willing to pay for; slim build, great ass, supple tits and a pussy that's kept in its panties without oozing off to the side. I call her over and she strides across the block with what looked like a reluctant sigh, though I can't be sure. I slip on the condom and, after brief negotiation, she agrees to a partial assjob and a vaginal finish in exchange to pay her and leave her alone.

As she pretends to climax and I safely finish in the privacy of the back seat, she desadles and lights a cigarette while I rummage through my wallet. I'm searching on the floor for change when I get a good look at what the rubber is made to resemble. I cease my seeking and switch on the light.

The condom, still on my deflating penis, is made to look like a funny man's face. It's a Jerry Seinfeld condom.

"What?" she asks. I barely hear her. Something fills me, no, AWAKENS in me, and I realize the infinite brilliance of my current situation.

"Dude, you look like you're about to pass out. Are you good?" she ventures, a growing note of concern in her voice breaks my concentration, and I turn to see if she understands.

"It's Jerry." I explain.

"...okay."

"It's Jerry." I explain.

"I...um... know?"

I blink, and disbelief settles into my head as she is not, and never will be, on my level of comedic intellect. The disbelief changes into aggression, and I try once more.

"It's Jerry." I explain.

"Look, just pay me and then lie down or something."

". . . Jerry Seinfeld." I explain, breaking out in genius laughter. "There's a Jerry Seinfeld on my penis."

"What do you want me to say? I've never watched that stupid show in m-" In one swift motion I shove my entire hand into her vagina. She screams and socks me as I go deeper and deeper up into her body, where I'm feeling pus from her sores and urine shower down my arm. I grab hold of her cervix and pull out, causing the seats and Jerry Seinfeld condom to turn red as she howls and grabs her inside out crotch and attempts to put it back in which turns me on again and I grab hold of her neck and choke her as I force my throbbing cock into her face as her eyes roll back into her head and she attempts to mumble something but I can't hear her and I roar FESTIVUUUUUUUS as I watch him slide in and out from under her running nose and I punch her diaphragm and she's gasping now clawing at her ribcage and laying face up in my trunk as I pull my car toward home listening to 99.5 WCRB on my car radio.

There I put Jerry in a wooden box to rest and as I bring the dead whore into my kitchen. Looking over her I see she wasn't bleeding blood but what looks like a drink, and upon a taste test I am ecstatic by the discovery that this dumb cunt had coffee running through her veins. To describe this I can only say it tasted spongeworthy. I think more as I get a bucket from my pantry and know, in my heart, brain and soul, that each and every one of those sluts were keeping their Café Mami away from me and Jerry. I know. I know their secret, and I will never let any of them get away with it ever again.

Over the next several years I have a schedule of driving across state borders with Jerry Seinfeld in my pocket, a bowl and a box of classic Clusters cereal I scavaged from eBay and order a prostitute, maybe sometimes even two prostitutes, to ride and fuck me before I routinely lock the doors, pull out a scalpel, and disassemble her or them while I fill my bowl to the brim with her or their juices and Clusters to eat until the box is empty, accompanied by Jerry watching on my penis. I then drive to the nearest breakfast diner and order as much food as they're allowed to let me have and dip each and every single item into my crusty bowl before I eat it, with Jerry getting a taste as well since he gave me my epiphany in the first place.

When I go home I save her face, ass and tits in a freezer downstairs if she's been particularly appetizing, and throw the rest in the well outside my house to return her to the universe and have her be reborn as a supplier to those others who've made my discovery. I spend evenings rewatching Seinfeld, more specifically season 9 episode 7. My urge to laugh grows more and more intense when I rewatch an episode. It is now to the point where I can't even think straight when watching Jerry start off his monologue. On nice nights I call up a cast member's home number to baptize me with his or her voice and maybe even say talk about waiting in waiting lines down at the grocers down the street as well. Mr. Alexander has been playing hard to get though, with the call's usually go like this:

Me: "Heeeey Georgey neighbor, when's season ten?"

Jason: "Stap. Fucking. Colling. This. House."

*Someone across the room he's in asks who's calling and he hangs up*

Though he now changes his phone number every week, I do the same and find it within an hour of each alternation. Craigslist is epic.

I'm walking across my lawn to the well to dispose of a bitch who called Seinfeld boring last night. I drop her sorry ass and her landing sounds like a wet waffle slapping against a birthday cake.

I turn around and am met with some baby faced sheriff staring at me. We stand facing each other for what I think is a minute.

Making smalltalk, I ask him if he knows what the whores taste like.

He gives me a lookdown, says "Jesusfuckinchrist" and shoots me in the chest.


End file.
